Artist - Creative - pigeon enthusiast

I never really planned on posting this because I didn’t really know if I wanted to share it. I am generally quite shit at talking about my life on the internet (which in my opinion isn’t a bad thing) especially in any sort of vaguely vulnerable way, however this painting means a lot to me.

At the end of may this year my grandad passed away. He was a man that I have admired my whole life, a presence that would fill any room no matter the size. He had a story for everyone and a song for every occasion. He was generous and kind and his outlook on life and community has helped shape me into the person I am today.

When he died, I had no idea what to feel. Or what to do with the things I was feeling. I’ve experienced loss but not in this way. I walked the beach outside his house the day after he passed and I picked up pieces of old pottery that had washed ashore, just as I used to do as a kid. I would run inside and give them to my gran, and she would keep them, all of em, no matter how shit.

When my grandad was in the hospital, high on the steady stream of industrial drugs he was given, he was complaining to my mother about some of the strange dreams he had been having, zombies and other morphine induced weirdness. When he was told he was going to die, he made his peace with it, my mother text me to let me know how he was doing and told me that he had been dreaming of walking in Torridon. He was a big hill walker and extremely active even into his old age, only slowing in his final few years, so it made sense that this is where his brain wanted to take him.

After his funeral, I painted. I drew. I spat out all my nonsense onto the page because there was nothing else I could really think to do. I spent a few days just painting the hills, the mountains, the Isle of Skye, the heather in the fields. Everything that reminded me of him.

This is one of those paintings.

This is the Bealach na Bá, in the highlands, and when I painted it I see him walking down that road towards the water.